


Tomorrow

by Celtic_Knot



Category: Hakuouki
Genre: Emotional Sex, F/M, First Time, Hope, Hurt/Comfort
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-03
Updated: 2016-02-03
Packaged: 2018-05-17 23:03:17
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,495
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5888629
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Celtic_Knot/pseuds/Celtic_Knot
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>There is nothing stopping them now. He can do this. Take her away from smoky grief, and the new era burning the old to the ground. Time breathes on the flames, but they don’t have to burn with it anymore.</i>
</p><p> </p><p>Heisuke and Chizuru on their return from Sendai.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Tomorrow

**Author's Note:**

> **Disclaimer:** I do not own Hakuouki, nor did I in any way contribute to its creation. All rights go to their respective owners.
> 
>  **WARNINGS:** Emotional sex, hurt/comfort, first time 
> 
> Set after Heisuke kills Sannan, on their way back from Sendai.

Survival has always been a dream, but never the expected reality. Heisuke has always wanted to live, always wanted to survive another day, but the ideal is rarely reality. Long before he took the ochimizu he had already chosen a life where it wouldn’t be strange if he died on someone’s sword, that death a dream in itself. Maybe a short life wasn’t so bad if you got to die the way you wanted to.

He’d lost that chance.

Becoming a rasetsu had only seemed to seal the deal that he would definitely not see many more days. And those last days would be nothing like he’d ever wanted for himself. But he had tried to convince himself that that was ok. It had to be that way. He’d live long enough to die fighting. That would be the best he could hope for. That sickly hope had amplified the significance of the battlefield. Maybe he’d die a monster, but at least he would have died useful.

Then Chizuru had reminded him. Just as much with her kiss as she had with her open palm across his face.

Dying wouldn’t be enough. It wouldn’t satisfy anyone. It wouldn’t give her any of the hundreds of days she wants to share with him, not a single second of all the laughter he wants to hear from her. So there had been no other choice. Sannan-san had to die. Heisuke had to live. And continue living. No one else had ever convinced him that his life is worth more than the sum of what makes a warrior. No one else had told him all he had to do was _live,_ and that would be enough to make them happy.

Chizuru deserves to be happy.

So he lived while Sannan-san had died.

They won a future.

Having a chance in their hands is surreal. He can’t quite figure out the exact weight of it, not when he’s lighter than he has been in years. Heisuke is afraid to wrap his fingers too tightly around it and break the promises it makes them. But Chizuru clasps her hands tightly around it and around him, and he knows it’s ok to hold on. They’re not so fragile. In the midst of every type of pain he’s ever known she has been there for him to return to time and time again. Welcoming him back into the parts of himself that she has kept safe. Her hands leave pieces of him warmer than he remembers them being when he gave them away. It’s nice. More than nice, but words aren’t obedient and Chizuru always seems to exceed them anyway.

“Heisuke,” Her shoulder brushes against him, carefully nudging him from thoughts back to her side, “The sun will be coming up soon.”

She’s apologizing for nature. That makes him smile to himself. The sun and him still aren’t on speaking terms, and Chizuru helps to keep it from tormenting him. Leads him into comfort when he thinks he’s up for a conversation with its rays. She knows better than to let him take on that fight. Sunlight hasn’t been anything but a sickening stranger for a while now.

But… There’s a chance he’ll know the daylight again.

If Kazama is telling the truth. But for now she’s plenty. More brightness than he could ever need to light tomorrow and tomorrows after. If he wants day back it’s so that she can have it too. Because they’re together. Resting on the same clock that finally seems to have stopped yanking its hands away from theirs.

“We’ll find somewhere to stop.” Sannan-san’s furies left the village nearby devastated. Anyone who didn’t run is dead. That aches still, being too late. Killing Sannan-san ten times over wouldn’t bring any of them back, but the emptiness left by those losses will be a refuge that he and Chizuru need.

“Alright.” Her fingers tangle up in his, meshing them together. Body and thought.

~~~

They have their choice of abandoned buildings. Some doors left ajar, others torn off completely, all call out their vacancy. Some stink of blood and death, screams still seeming to drag themselves through walls. Heisuke avoids those. Passing each one in turn. If Chizuru thinks he’s being picky she doesn’t say so, maybe she senses it too. If not the memory of devastation, then the way he reacts to it. The half-life on death is longer than he remembers.

There’s one door intact, and Heisuke has found their shelter. Walls that will protect them from sun and shadows alike. It’s a relief. The imminent morning always makes him nauseous, tapping on his head with its beams until his eyes hurt.

Chizuru slips inside first, he follows right after. Not a moment too soon to slam the door in sunrise’s face. Their surroundings are foreign to him. That’s ok. New places have always fascinated Heisuke. Places inhabited by other lives that he will never know, but might meet glimpses of through what’s left behind. It doesn’t smell like blood, but it’s not free of chaos. There’s an abundance of fabric on the floor, spilling out of drawers and chests.

“This was a shop, I think.” Chizuru’s observation shouldn’t surprise him, but while he’d been focused on the echoes of humans, she had found the identity of the walls around them in things that have never lived. “Look at all the silk, they must have made clothes.”

She’s right. A second glance lends the fabrics the name of kimonos. Far too many for any one family’s uses. Briefly, he wonders if too many things in his life have gone right in a row. To stumble across a place that’s not only safe, but stocked with what can ultimately serve as fancy blankets. First he beat Sannan-san, then Kazama let them go, now this. Too many blessing helping him along towards that promise he’d made to Chizuru. To live a while longer.

He’s nearly suspicious, but not quite.

Not when he thinks that just maybe they’ve worked hard enough to deserve to catch a break. If he were to add up all of the misfortune he’s had throughout this damn war, this recent turn just begins to pay him and Chizuru back for what it had cost them. It was never just him hurting. She has been right there beside him. Taking on his suffering in addition to her own. So many things say she should be terrified of him. Should have never even wanted his friendship. But she had. That and so much more.

Nobody has ever broken that many rules for him.

“Here,” He gathers up several of the kimonos arranging them into something like a bed. All different colors and patterns. Cranes fall next to koi fish. It looks comfortable enough.

“Oh, I see.” There’s more organization to Chizuru’s method than his. The way she chooses the position of each one, laying them out to maximize the space, and curling the edges to make a nest shape. He can’t stop himself from finding that stupid grin while he watches her.

She handles each kimono with a care that Heisuke thinks would make the previous owners pleased. Delicate motions, a quiet bend in her wrists, guiding each one into place next to a suitable companion. Hues and patterns that he’d left in disarray find organization with Chizuru. It doesn’t have to be beautiful, she makes it so anyway. Biting the inside of her cheek, dipping her shoulders, reaching her arms out and drawing them back. The dusty morning light poking at the windows sweeps some of the color of silk onto her skin.

It’s stunning, and Heisuke’s mind drifts towards her wearing more than the borrowed colors, but the kimonos themselves. They’re free. She could start dressing like a girl again anytime now. He wonders what style she’d like to wear, what patterns and shades she’d choose. Each kimono she touches he imagines on her, and not a single one would look less than perfect. Is that how it always is when you care so deeply for someone? Probably. But Heisuke’s still convinced it’s even more true for Chizuru.

He swallows when she folds a white one into a pillow. The color jumps onto future hopes of his. Hopes of sharing a life and everything that entails. Of promising her what should have been hers a few years ago now. It’s one of the first of many things he wants to give her once they’re settled in the country. A marriage. Granting a more formal name to all of the love and stability that he wants to give her day after day.

“This should work.” Her voice registers a few seconds too late, “Heisuke?”

“Sorry, I was thinking.” Sitting down beside her reminds his body how tired it is. The stillness offering a chance for days of strain to catch up. For all of the joy and excitement there’s also exhaustion. Unanswered questions, lingering concerns. Nothing he doesn’t think they can’t beat. But nagging stuff. Tendrils of Sannan-san voice hooked through threads of Heisuke’s vest, and the war all around them prodding at Chizuru’s sides. “This is a lot nicer than what I’ve slept on in a while.”

Chizuru’s laughter always starts in her eyes, and only once the spark becomes too big for them to hold does it slip past her lips. It’s soft and grounding, just like her hand on his knee, “You must be tired.”

“A little,” Heisuke shifts on their temporary bed, taking her hand on his way down.

Her free hand slides across his chest, pressing over where Sannan-san had stabbed him. He flinches and Chizuru’s hand leaps away. The reaction surprises him too. The wound is healed. Not even a scar takes its place. So what hurts? The memory of the wound maybe. Of Sannan-san’s sword stuck in him, and knowing exactly what he had to do. Taking no joy in it but doing what must be done. For the Shinsengumi, for Sannan-san, for Chizuru, and for himself. The sound of the body hitting the ground still rattles around Heisuke’s head. These thoughts will probably hurt for some time.

But he has the best medicine.

Heisuke takes Chizuru’s hand and guides it back to his chest, “It’s healed. You startled me is all.”

“I’m sorry.” Her fingers are careful, tracing over the fabric of his vest. The phantom ache doesn’t enjoy Chizuru’s touch nearly as much as Heisuke does. It steps away with every motion she makes.

“Don’t worry about it.” There has never been anything for her to apologize for. Whenever she says _sorry_ he has to bite back the hundreds of apologies he must owe her: _I’m sorry we scared you, I’m sorry we made you dress like a boy, I’m sorry I left, I’m sorry I made you worry._ She would never accept these apologies. Sometimes her kindness is so overwhelming that he has blink away drops of light until his vision returns.

“Are you sure nothing else hurts?” The gentle strokes turn more curious. Prodding and poking. Always the doctor’s daughter. She knocks a chuckle free.

“I’m ok, Chizuru. I promise.” Heisuke wraps an arm around her waist, gently bringing them both down to a lying position. She needs the rest too. “We’ll take a break here, and we should reach Hijikata-san by tomorrow morning.”

His words linger in the air, and Chizuru watches them dissipate. Her eyes fixate on a point far past where the last syllable dissolved. It’s understandable. Heisuke has found himself lost more times in recent months than he’d care to admit. Sometimes a single word or sight will trigger an avalanche of others and the only thing you can do is swim along with it until it quiets.

He brushes his fingertips against her cheek, “Chizuru?”

“Oh!” Her eyes widen when her thoughts give her back, “You reminded me.”

“Hmm?”

“After we report to Hijikata-san,” She bites her lip, fresh concern welling up, “we’re going back to my clan’s homeland, right?”

Since Kazama decided to divulge that information, Heisuke has known he will gladly take that chance to live. To leave the battlefield far behind for Chizuru and a future not defined by time itself, but instead by every breath and touch they’ll be able to share once he cleanses the poison in his blood. Of course he wants that. The chance to live whatever still remains of his scorched life in peace. But that option asks him to leave the Shisengumi behind. Asks him to leave behind the people who have become so impossibly dear to him. It will be the most difficult goodbye he has faced, without a doubt.

She’s asking if he’s ready for that.

He is.

A little struggled hasn’t stopped him yet.

“Yeah.” Smiling comes easy when it’s for her reassurance, “I’ll let Hijikata-san know what we’re doing. I’ve done as much as I can without burning out.” _Burning away._

The whoosh of her breath drops some of the tension from her shoulders.

“But leaving will be hard for you.” She trails her fingers through his bangs, his space and her space have already decided to call each other home, “And they’re in a difficult position.”

_It might be the last time we ever see them alive._

“I feel kind of rotten about leaving them right before they head off to battle,” Swallowing is a little difficult. He knows what their kind of odds usually mean. War is unkind, and he has already died once, “but I want to live. With you. That’s what’s most important to me now.”

Priorities change, and sometimes that tugs along doubt. If he had more patience for ink and paper he could write a book of regrets longer than any of Hijikata-san’s haiku collections. But with Chizuru’s hand in his, he’s never been more certain that he’s choosing right. Her thumb circles around his knuckles, winding comfort and restoration through each dip and rise while she herds her thoughts together.

“I’m so happy to hear you say that.” The words are quiet but the courage they reach passed her smile with is incredible. That smile starts to falter under the weight of memories of partings made final, “But goodbye will still be hard.”

Not just for him. He’s watched Chizuru fold herself into the center of their chosen family with a sort of amazement. How her fear had melted away into concern, and concern had heated into a genuine fondness for each one of them. In return all the guys became fond of her as well. More than someone to protect, but a friend in a dying era trying to take them all with it. Those bonds are not ever forgotten, simply stretched over greater distances.

Heisuke takes his hand from her, and runs it up and down her arm. He keeps his touch feather light, just firm enough that it doesn’t prick skin with that annoying ticklish sensation. This is not any sort of teasing. There are few things he packed from Ise, even fewer still that have survived this long. But this kind of quiet comfort he offers... It found its home in his memories from his mom after the first time she’d lent it to him. He has dumped out most of his parent’s _gifts,_ they’ve never been anything but cheap replacements. But this has its uses, and Chizuru is worth everything he knows.

“I was pretty young when I found Shieikan.” There’s something about stories that always seems to take some of the teeth from reality. Looming goodbyes sting, but the past has some pretty special moments for him. Ones he wants her to see.

“Hmm? Oh, when you met Kondo-san and the others.” The tenderness in her voice stirs up all of the things he’ll tell her. Now and each day after.

The past is something he hasn’t shared much of with her, and her eagerness to listen makes that even more apparent. This is one more thing he’s owed her for a while. He’s sharing his life with her after all. Yesterday and tomorrow. There are memories he’s been scared to touch. Ones almost too sacred to pull out and relive, as he had been privileged enough to live them once. But they’re his to keep, his to share as he sees fit. This war has taken and taken, but it could never leave him empty handed.

“Yeah. I’d just left my domain.” She knows where he’s from, a few small details about his family he’d shared in a moment of weakness. He’s still not proud of having dumped that on her when he did. “You know about my parents… Well I’d had enough and needed to go. I never expected to find the guys.”

Chizuru curls in closer to him, and his arm drapes farther over her. She wants to be close to them, to the years she’d missed but Heisuke had lived. Heisuke rubs circles on the small of her back. He’ll let her see as much as see wants. Today is perfect for remembering.

“When I got there Kondo-san and Hijikata-san had already taken in Souji, Shinpachi, and Sano. Souji had been there for a long time, since he was a kid.” Hijikata-san had recounted in great detail the shit Souji got up to, and how Shinpachi and Sano had each shown up with more bruises than money.

“Okita-san must have been quite the child.” She laughs to herself, but her fingers trace the sound onto Heisuke’s arm.

Heisuke misses Souji’s company in that moment. The glint in his eyes, and all the times he would chase Heisuke around begging for a match. Matches that ended in Souji’s favor more often than not. He’d actually taught Heisuke a lot about not dying, beast that he is to spar with. And he knows Chizuru would have loved to see Souji the way he was then. All life and vigor. No rattling death in his chest.

Is Souji even still alive? Bad news has a funny way of lying in wait. Heisuke pushes further into memories for now.

“From what I’ve heard he drove Hijikata-san mad.” That never changed, though. Somethings never did. They had all been full of a dangerous combination of energy and dreams, “I actually fought Shinpachi my first day there.”

There are pictures in her mind, the colors of them become clear to him when she tugs his hand off of her back and tucks it against her neck. Her pulse drums out what she knows, what he knows, combined memories. Joy and pain in equal parts. “Really?”

“Yeah, he’d been so pushy. And Souji egged him on.” Heisuke laughs, “I lost. Sano got me some ice. My pride hurt more than anything. But Sannan-san told me that Hijikata-san and Kondo-san would probably let me stay. They were all so great. I knew that was where I needed to be.”

Sano and Shinpachi had decided after that match that he needed their… mentorship? Or maybe they just had wanted a brother figure to pick on. Either way those jerks made his transition to Shieikan easier and easier. Each day he become less focused on what he’d left behind and more certain of his place. He’d never had some place, some people, that he could truly call home before.

“You’re a family.” It’s fact, she doesn’t leave any sign of a question. Not in her voice nor in her hand curling into his shoulder. “So Saitou-san was the last to join?”

“Yeah, Hajime-kun showed up a few months after I did. Him and Souji had a match that got so heated that we had to drag them off each other.” That had been one hell of day.

New students were rare. One that could face Souji unheard of. Hajime-kun has always been exceptional. And he’d been in need of a place that saw all he had to offer under whatever perceived problem there was with his unique style. Acceptance had been enough for unwavering gratitude and friendship. He’d been the perfect addition to their group.

“Those two do as much talking with their swords as they do otherwise.” Chizuru glances over to where Heisuke’s two blades rest within reach. Her own experience with a sword is far more limited than any of theirs, and Heisuke is glad of that. But she understands the way they communicate with steel anyway. She hadn’t at first, but she’s a quick learner. Chizuru understands language of both words and of everything that fills up unspoken spaces.

“It works for them. I don’t think Hijikata-san knew whether to be proud or to scold them after they’d beat each other.” Ice and ointment were usually necessary after those two sparred.

She smiles at his memories, and his thoughts stumble back to a memory she doesn’t need to be told of.

Her own arrival to the Shinsengumi.

By complete accident and unfortunate circumstances. The first time they’d spoke he’d told her to be prepared to accept her death as a man. All the missteps in those words are cringe worthy now, yet not a single one of them is pinned to him by resentment. In all her fear she’d been mad, sure. She had set him straight about her gender, and had questioned his morals just a bit. But she’d never lashed with an ounce of what he would have expected. There was some part of her, even in those terrifying moments, that had tried to understand them.

And that part grew and grew. She’d stuck with them through danger and deaths of comrades. Terrible and unpleasant things. Heisuke remembers having been more and more amazed each time she endured them with her own quiet fortitude. His delayed thanks takes on many forms. This morning it draws his hand through her hair and down the side of her neck. She answers with her fingers circling the buttons of his vest.

Always the right person at the right time. For all the struggle the Shinsengumi has gone through, their very origins had come from lives intertwined by something purer than accident.

They could talk about those past days for years and it still wouldn’t be enough to satisfy her curiosity. They’re trying to fit lives into hours, and time is only so flexible.

Sometimes moving on is the only choice. This conversation has to. As much as Heisuke would like to linger on old happiness there’s planning to be done to ensure future memories worthy of smiles. Sheer chance has done him both favors and disservices. Plans are notorious for breaking their promises, but they give a general shape to the vast amount of choices and roads ahead. And the formation of a plan is something sweet for Heisuke.

To have enough life ahead to be able to choose the things he wants in a future, and not have it just be an empty wish. That’s nothing short of a miracle. One constructed with the help of Chizuru of course. But also not without Hijikata-san and the others.

Heisuke will never forget them or what they did for him. No matter how history tries to smear their blood, or where it tries to scatter their bones, he’ll know with certainty who they were. Nobody else needs to tell him anything of them or himself.

They allowed him to survive the unbearable, allowed him to find Chizuru.

Every sacrifice, every encouragement. It’s all gotten him here.

Here is so much than the pile of ashes he’d assumed it would be.

“Chizuru,” Her name is probably the sum of the lines he’s been drawing on the back of her hand with his finger, “What do you want to do?”

“Hmm?” It was worded unclearly, but the confusion lifting her brows and quirking her lips makes his clumsy words worth it. Her expression is much better than the swat or distinct air of disproval he’s usually met with when his mouth outpaces his thoughts.

“When we get away from the war.” Briefly, they’d talked about it once. What they would do if things were difference. But then it had been painful. He’d been filled with his own death and what would become of Chizuru’s desires then. But now he wants to take each hope of hers and hold it in his hands. He wants her to trust him with all those things he’d once been so sure he could never give her.

It’s new for both of them. Giving serious thought to days beyond the battlefield. New things take time and practice. Adjusting to something as simple as wanting something more than to survive is still a challenge. Chizuru starts and stops. Her hand turns over to press her palm into his. If he could pluck everything she wants from the air between their hands he would. Instead he has to wait until she finds her and him down the road.

“Anything?” He nods, and she smiles. “I’d like to see a play like we talked about once. I want to take a walk in the afternoon, and it would be nice to go pick peaches.”

Easy requests. For anyone under normal circumstances. But she’s asking for things that would mark a triumph over days spent with red sand sliding through their fingers no matter how tightly they tried to hang on. Heisuke wants these things too. The normalcy, the time, her smile.

“That will be really nice.” It _will._ There is nothing stopping them now. He can do this. Take her away from smoky grief, and the new era burning the old to the ground. Time breathes on the flames, but they don’t have to burn with it anymore. “I want to live in a house with lots of light, and get to eat your food every day.”

That makes her laugh, but he can see her mind wrap around his wants and match them to her own. Every day together. She’s lived with them, and with him for years now. There’s something distinctly different about imagining a home of their own. Constructed from their desire to live and live together. There’s room for more than survival there. Heisuke has never enjoyed chores, laundry, cleaning, none his favorite uses of time. But he’s excited to share those things with Chizuru. To build something that will hold everything they want for each other.

They might even have kids someday, and he can’t stop himself from laughing.

Humor, relief, and a tremendous joy take off with his breath until his ribs ache and his eyes shut. Aburano-Kouji, Tobi-Fushimi, Sannan-san. Not one of them can stomp out this freedom. He has longed for this for so long, has lingered in feelings of what it might be like to have more than death to look forward to… And now he has it, and he’d be lying if he said he wasn’t at least a little bit overwhelmed.

Chizuru might not know exactly why he’s laughing, but that does nothing to stop her from joining him. She’s happy to share his happiness. And he’s all too willing to welcome her into every ounce of it. She starts to wrap her arms around him, and he meets her half way.

A step further and he rolls so that she’s lying on top of him. Looking up at her has always been a favorite view of his. The weight of her is something he needs. He holds her tighter against him, hands massaging her sides. His imagination has never pressed his back into a bed of kimonos or sighed against his neck. It has never run its fingers across his cheek or pressed its foot into his shin.

It has never kissed him either.

Chizuru does all of those things.

This is the second time they’ve kissed, and he knows someday he’ll lose count.

It’s easy. This time, the flavor of her is less pained. No bite of desperation, or slice of coppery blood. Their first kiss had been so healing, so special. It had validated pain and longing. Had provided encouragement to keep moving forward. But he hadn’t been able to give her everything he had wanted to. Not in that exact moment. He’d been able to give _I’ll try_ but not _I will._ It had left him shaking and full of wonder, but also afraid of the fate they could face the following day.

Now is just as potent as then, for different reasons.

His senses argue over what’s his favorite part of her kisses. Her hands run through his hair, and the sensation flowering at the back of his skull is amazing. But so is the sound of the gasp she swallows when their tongues touch. If that wasn’t enough, the smell of her all around him drowns out the blood and metal that Sannan-san’s castle of rasetsu had raked his face with.

She has always been a comforting place to rest and recover. When he’d sworn life had already torn him apart, she’d sewn him back together. Stitching a chest aching kindness into each repair she made.

Their kiss starts as one and falls into two, then three, probably four. He starts to wander, but she guides him. Every motion has a reaction and he wants to learn them all. They’ll learn each other through the laughter and steady burn their bodies toss back and forth.

Heisuke kisses from the corner of her mouth to her ear. His breath must tickle because she turns her head quickly, and he’s back at her lips. That’s fine, he stays there until her breath catches in the same instant his teeth catch her lip. He tugs gently until her breath returns in a rush that he’s excited to swallow. There are things he knows and things Chizuru tells him. He presses his lips along her jaw, and she bends her neck down to him so he can kiss there too.

His hand cups the back of her head, pulling her closer. Always closer. The skin of her neck is soft and honest in all that it tells. He can feel everything through the different angles and pressure he uses. The sounds she inhales trace his lips, and he has her pulse on his tongue. They are two people, but two people who are folding in. Drawn towards each other by hundreds of threads Heisuke can only begin to understand. Their origin matters less than what Chizuru and him can weave with them.

When they pull away their grins match. Her shoulders shake a little. His hands aren’t steady, but knotting them in her hair helps.

Chizuru has taken it upon herself to treat him with the utmost kindness time and time again. Kindness that often has a bit of kick to it. She can be as stubborn and strong as anyone he knows. That strength and vigor is turned on him. He can’t say he’s complaining when she tugs at his hair and collar. Gravity is on her side, and she takes advantage of that.

Their makeshift bed has his back and she’s got his front. He’s glad to let her explore.

Her hands run down his sides, up his arms, sweeping along his neck to his face. There she begins tracing his features with her fingers and lips. It’s difficult to keep still when her ring finger brushes from the corner of mouth to his cheekbone. Chizuru kisses his eyelids, then his temples. Eventually his lips too. She’s soft but insistent. It’s hard to fathom being touched with such reverence. It floods him with colorful sounds and bright touches that blur his vision.

There’s no logic, but it makes sense all the same.

He has to allow his hands to grab at the fabric of her clothes to keep from tugging her to all the places he needs her. Everywhere she touches and everywhere she doesn’t. Every inch of him clings to her touch, and pulls it in and in until he can hear his own pulse cover his ears. Heisuke can’t breathe for the moment her lips are working at the dip between his collar bones, but he’s never inhaled deeper when she returns to his lips once again.

Chizuru rolls to the side so that they’re lying chest to chest, one of her legs tangles between his. Heisuke takes her hand. He could probably draw every line on her palms from memory, and yet each time he brings their fingers together he can’t help but feel like she’s got a map on the back of her hands that he could follow for years and never stop finding surprises.

In the entirety of his life he has never reacted to someone the way he reacts to her. When her forehead bumps against his shoulder he knows it must be her smile that’s warming his chest. Heisuke has often been told he rushes, that he jumps into situations too quickly. But here with Chizuru, he stops after each second to mark it someplace inside him. If life is kind to them, there won’t be an inch of him left unwritten. He’ll never been as smooth as Sano, or as firm as Hijikata-san but he’s proud of what they compose within him. And within her too.

It’s always been for both of them. Equals in more ways than one.

Thoughts unravel in time to the buttons of his vest being pulled free, opening the fabric and something else. Chizuru has to concentrate, the buttons are more foreign to her than his body. But that she’s undoing them at all is whirling around his mind. It takes him seconds to place the motion of her hands on his chest with her intentions. And even then he’s not sure he’s reading her correctly. His hands reach towards hers, but give up halfway there. There’s no good way to ask this without presuming.

Her fingers tugging the vest off his shoulders, and his own instinct to help her get his arms free are something more of answer.

There are many things he has generally good judgement about. But his gut has kicked itself with poor decisions before. And she’s important. So important. He has to get this right the first time.

“Chizuru, hey.” His vest is a lost cause, gone behind what he thinks is blue dragons flying on silk. His throat is dry. Each place her finger tips touch flares up, and he’s dizzy from trying to follow the charges.

“Heisuke?” If he wasn’t sure she knew exactly what she was asking, the things her voice does to his spine clears it up for certain.

It would make Sano and Shinpachi laugh. That she’s the one leading them there, and he’s a bit hesitant to go.

She’s watching him with something like amusement, but definitely more than that. The circles her hands rub all around his chest make thinking in a straight line one hell of a challenge. He nearly decides on how he wants to ask, until the words duck behind her eyes and he’s back at zero. It takes several tries to pin enough syllables to the roof of his mouth.

“Are you sure you-“ And he’s short. But he still has to check, has to ask. It’s not that he thinks she’s naïve. Nor is it that he wouldn’t give her anything she wants from him. What she wants is definitely something he wants. The fact that she’d even consider coming to bed with him sews light all throughout him. In and out until he’s sure she must be able to see where it enters his chest and exits his throat. “Are you sure, with me? Now?”

Very eloquent. He’s lucky Chizuru speaks Heisuke. Always lucky.

“Yes.” Her hands peel his shirt open more, palms resting against his chest. She doesn’t move, but nothing in him is still.

“I just- you know,” It’s bumbling even by his standards. Trying to tell her _yes,_ he wants her, god does he want her. But it doesn’t have to be this moment, in this strange place. He probably doesn’t have the decades another man might have to give her, but he’s got enough. They’ve got enough, “We have time.”

He’s sick of rushing for the sake of rushing. He’s sick of watching her have to try to jam an entire lifetime of joy into minutes, when finally _they have time._ So he takes everything he still has left to offer, the future Sannan-san died for him to have, and hands that to her. Their pace is her decision.

“I know, Heisuke.” Her fingers trace his heart, following the paths of veins and arteries out a ways before coming back home. She’s not hesitant, still her voice starts to rattle, “But we have right now too, and I want to do this with you. Do you?”

There is absolutely no pressure on him. No coercion in her inquiry. Everything he gives to her, she gives right back. No decision of this magnitude is made without them both breathing in and stepping forward together. If he wanted to hold her all night long, and do nothing but hold on, she’d be more than willing. She’d also be fine if he wanted to just lie here and cry, because he’s grieving and relieved and cherished and how does he even begin to-

He has to close his eyes for a minute. It doesn’t help him think straight. Not when her offer is inked on the backs of his eyelids, and her hands curl into the fabric of his open shirt

There’s many purposes to intimacy. Heisuke knows a few. But he’s never had the kind that branches out purely from an unshakable desire to be simply _be_ with him. She gives him that. And more than that. So much that it would have seemed impossible to him once. Chizuru has made him live when that seemed impossible too.

He’d been ready to give his life up to fighting. Prepared to water the ground of a battlefield somewhere with his blood so that the Shinsengumi’s legacy could grow. _So that his friends wouldn’t all disappear._ Death is pretty universal too. There had been some sort of diseased comfort in that. Maybe in the last moments before ashes, he’d have been able to pretend he was like any other human.

Now he doesn’t have to pretend.

Chizuru’s lips fall onto his heart and he manages to choke out something between her name and a thank you. It incidentally sounds more like he’s laughing through tears. She settles into his senses, and it brings him just as much life as her blood ever will. He’s got so much of her in him, whispering to live, live, live.

And so there’s only one answer he can give her.

“Yes. I want to.” The sentence is arranged logically. It’s a tremendous victory that he still found the position of words when her smile is so bright that he could forget it’s morning because the sun can’t begin to keep up with her. “But promise me something.”

“Of course!” That has her attention. It’s nothing nearly as dire as she must think. He appreciates her attentiveness anyway.

His arms wrap around her, “We’ll go slow. And you’ll tell me if you get uncomfortable.”

Swallowing is hard. Things that need to be said leave his throat constricted around everything he still can’t believe. Dreams have given his mind him and her before. He has imagined what it might be like, but actually being here, actually moving towards this in words and action. It’s so real that it’s unreal.

“I promise.” The ease in which she gives him her word stings in the best way. Trust so complete that he can stuff every wound that his rasetsu blood can’t touch full of it.

“Good, then go ahead.” He’s half teasing her for her previous enthusiasm. For all practical purposes he’s topless. And she’s still fully clothed. That’s not a bad thing.

Her flush is definitely a good thing. He laughs, and she swats him. It’s hard for Chizuru to look intimidating when she’s fighting to hang onto a laugh herself. It’s only fair that he helps a little bit. Shrugging his shoulders slips the fabric of his shirt down to where the only action she has to take is to tug it and toss it. It lands on one of the kimonos, so he kicks it further away. Flowers will make a better backdrop than stiff white linen and awkward buttons.

It wouldn’t be a bad move to start undressing her too, but his brain gets stuck on the way her eyes trace up and down his upper body. Being uncovered isn’t new or exciting, but he’s almost shy and definitely excited in ways that he would have imagined himself to be beyond by now.

Chizuru takes him back and forward and everywhere he wants to be.

He rolls from his side to his back. She can have her turn first. She deserves it after the hard work of wrestling his buttons. She leans half over him, not nervous so much as calculating. Heisuke reaches up and unties her hair. He misses his long hair, and what it represented. So he tangles his fingers in hers. Hair is just hair, but this is a comfort. A comfort and all the coaxing she needs to put plan into action.

She took his request for slow to heart. But there’s nothing delayed about the way he jerks as her lips fall onto his sternum. His shoulders press down so that his chest can reach towards her. It’s a compromise for his body, which parts get to be nearest to the affection she gives. But Chizuru is attentive to all of him. Her fingers slide along his ribs, over his chest, then down across his abdominals where they sweep back and forth a bit until he hisses out a held breath.

It goes on and on like that for a while. Gentle touches and random kisses. He disciplines his hands into staying on her waist. No more yet. No pushing or pulling. Simply fingers curling into skin and bone. He just needs her _here._ And she stays, but goes. Moves here and there. It’s fine. It’s better than fine. He could do this for hours and hours-

But then Chizuru toys with the button of his pants and he gasps.

There’s nervousness in the lines of her face, but the ink of it is pale and watered down. It’s barely noticeable under the vibrancy of determination. Still, she’s clumsier here than she had been with his vest and shirt. He should help, definitely. But it takes him a minute to get his hands back from her waist, and to steady his breathing enough to remember how buttons work. Hajime-kun and him had practiced with their new outfits, but he’s still not quite comfortable with it.

He’s comfortable with her though, “Here, let me help.”

Heisuke tugs his gloves off. Hajime-kun had observed this is usually easier with bare fingers.

Chizuru bites her lip and looks like she might argue. This is her project and he respects that. So he guides her, but ultimately makes sure it’s her who slides the glass button through the fabric. She definitely doesn’t need his help to tug everything down. The fabric brushes across overly warm skin that he’s surprised doesn’t peel away with his now discarded pants. Western pants aren’t exactly comfortable, but neither is her still clothed leg sliding against him. He’ll take the latter any day.

And he’s ready to start uncovering her, but she has other ideas.

She bends down and kisses a scar on his bicep. It’s so faint he’d forgotten it was even there until her tongue reminds him of its shape. Her hand takes one of his as she pulls back far enough to speak, but stays close enough that he can feel her words more than anything, “How did you get this?”

Huh. That’s a tough one. It’s difficult not focus on the curve of her back under his free hand, or the feeling of her hair brushing against his chest. Where did he, oh! “When I was kid. I fell out of a tree.”

Her concern for his health, and that such an incident is _so_ like him both play on her lips. The smile and the hum of frustration come simultaneously. It’s a momentary distraction before she’s back on task.

This time she moves to a scar that runs from the right side of his chest along one of his ribs. Her thumb traces it first, carefully, running back and forth as if she’s erasing and awed all at once. He doesn’t scar anymore. Not with being a rasetsu. This mark is one of the ones he got to keep from his humanity. And then she kisses from one end of it to the other. It’s feathery, but each time her lips touch him he’s pricked with a warmth runs through his veins until it stings his eyes and dries out his throat.

Heisuke squeezes and releases her hand in time with one of their heartbeats, he’s not sure which.

“And this one?” She’s quiet and curious and nervous.

“Ronin. On one of my first patrols.” It’s hard to find old stories when he’s so wrapped around everything she does to him, and everything he reaches for in her. But he finds them none the less. Because she wants them. It kicks up past and present until there’s not an inch of his life that’s not awake.

It goes back and forth. She finds stories on his skin and he matches up the words. There’s the time he got in a fight on the road between Ise and Edo. And the one where he got sliced trying guard a kid. That one time when child him had thought that his mom was lying when she said the pot was too hot to touch. The day when he was sparring with Shinpachi and it got out of hand.

When she’s satisfied with her newly drawn map of both his body and his past, she kisses his lips.

Heisuke tangles his hands in her hair and holds while their tongues pass along sparks and sentences. It’s enough, always enough. But she asked for more, and he wants to give that. The scratch of her clothes against his skin has become more and more insistent. When’s the last time he’s undressed anyone but himself? It doesn’t matter.

She matters.

If he’s nervous it’s only because he wants to do this right. But part of him is sure it will be fine. Chizuru has never required him to overthink things. It’s always an exercise in trust, trusting himself. Becoming a rasetsu had taken that from him. The ability to let his hands go and know they won’t come back bloody without permission. Staying beside her, and counting each day she continues to care about him has returned that faith that he’s himself. He’s not in control of much, but he does have control of himself.

And of what he can do for her.

It’s all care and kindness when he switches their position so that it’s her lying on their homemade bed, and him bracing over her. There’s intricate designs on each piece of fabric under her. Cherry blossoms extending from her shoulders, feathers falling down her sides, leaves and birds cradling her legs. It’s stunning, and he chokes and laughs at his luck. At how amazingly well she fits in anywhere and everywhere he is.

He kisses her smile, and then her neck. Her throat moves with breath and blood working under the skin. So many tiny things unseen go into life, and he appreciates everyone one of them. His teeth graze where she swallows, and his lips tell her pulse how proud he is of her. Getting here wasn’t easy. They’ve made it.

Chizuru grips at his sides. The pressure isn’t much, and he wouldn’t mind if she squeezed harder. He doesn’t stay bruised long at all anyone, and even if he did, any shade Chizuru wants him to wear would be great. His hands cover hers and curl in, inviting her to hold as tightly as she needs to when he kisses down and down until he runs out of uncovered skin. It’s hard to tell how much of the dampness on her skin is his fault and how much is sweat. Although that’s probably indirectly his fault too.

He grins, and she giggles. It pokes his chest until his lungs are whispering to his heart how much of a joy this is. There are so many things that haven’t sorted themselves out yet. He’s still sore from things he did and things he might never get to do. But he can put that aside for now, can hurl it out the window actually, because he has a chance. They have a chance.

The sash holding her top closed isn’t so intimidating, but it is. Heisuke picks at the knot but doesn’t give it a good tug until she nods. That permission allows him action but not ease. He wonders if she tied this so tightly on purpose, just to see him work at it. That’s ridiculous though. And the knot does come undone eventually.

The tiny fragments of morning that do make it through the windows capture her movements in pale oranges when she leans up to kiss his chin and shrug out of her sleeves. The sunlight doesn’t hurt when it has to work through and around so many other surfaces before it can meet either of their skin. It’s more color than light where it touches.

It’s the first time he’s seen her even half undressed. He’d known she’d be beautiful, and she absolutely is. But the curves and plains of her body themselves aren’t nearly as incredible as the way she smiles at him, a little shy but more than anything happy, content. Heisuke has touched and been touched, but it’s entirely different when the intimacy of it all comes not from the skin he can see but from all of the things that are stitched up within it. And it’s a desire to be closer to all of those things that draws him down to her.

Knowing where to start is the hardest part, but her ribs seem like a nice spot. He kisses her, pressing until the bone beneath must be able to feel it too, all the things he says into skin. Heisuke lets his lips and tongue form the outlines of words on each part of her that he covers. The punctuation comes in the pauses he takes to sweep his tongue across the spaces between each rib. Her breath catches on a short rhyme that her fingers tap against his spine as he goes. He thinks it’s at least somewhat more eloquent than he usually is. She’s the kind of stationary that would make anyone’s words look better.

His hands find her breasts and his lips follow.

Heisuke alternates kissing and stroking, and it’s difficult to cover as much of an area as he wants to. It’s distracting, the urge to touch her everyone all at once so that there’s not a centimeter of her that feels left out. And while that goal isn’t quite obtainable, what he does manage makes her sigh and scratch at his back. His muscles jump around under where her nails dig in, it’s not painful. Rather it’s encouraging that she can stitch any nerves into his skin to make room for all of the other sensations that he wants to give her.

Moving down is nice too. Her hands slip from his back to his shoulders by the time he reaches her lower stomach. One of the first things he’d been taught in fighting school had been how to guard vulnerable areas like the stomach. Maybe it’s that instinct that lingers even in bed because he’s especially gentle here. His kisses are open mouth but less kisses and more like ghosts of breath and lips. Just enough to leave a trail that guides a chill up her body when he blows.

He smiles up at her, but the haze in her eyes makes him swallow. Hard. They’re doing this. And he’d can’t believe it, but he can because his hands slide her hakama down until he can kiss her hips too. Tracing his lips and tongue along the path from her abdomen down and outwards towards the bones that fit so nicely in his palms. She rubs his shoulders, curling her fingers and then sliding back and forth from his shoulder blades towards his neck.

Taking off someone’s clothes is usually easier in theory than application. The idea doesn’t often come with the hitches that reality can have. Skin creates friction, and bones and joints catch fabric and hold it in place. Nerves and clumsiness can make it difficult for fingers to drag things where they need to go. In theory experience helps with that. And Heisuke has some experience. But not sex with Chizuru experience.

She doesn’t seem to mind his hesitancy. Her hands cover his and help him pull everything down until she can kick her hakama away, and they’re both equally naked. Save for her sandals…

They both laugh at his skipped step. Chizuru strokes his cheek and his lips with her fingers.

It’s not a problem.

He’ll just have work his way there. It’s no burden to slide down her legs. He lingers, cupping the backs of her knees with his hands while he kisses the insides of her thighs, alternating left to right. It’s not exactly difficult to keep her still, but he can feel her muscles threatening to jump. It would be ok if they did. He’s hardly afraid of being kicked, it would be funny probably. Except she’d feel bad, and this is definitely not the time for that so he keeps moving.

The backs of her knees are ticklish. The longer he laps at the pulse there, the more her giggles are trimmed into sighs and gasps. Her enjoyment makes for another layer of downy softness for them to lie on, just as beautiful as all their other bedding. He’s comfortable when she’s comfortable.

Although, maybe comfortable isn’t quite the word for now. Not when he aches with not only a physical desire, but with everything they’ve carried here and everything they have to build a future with. It’s a nice ache. The kind that reminds him that’s alive, and happy to be so. And more than something as simple as happy, he’s amazed at having found someone who has the strength to share every part of his life.

It must be the same for her. There was a time when her life wasn’t so certain either. It’s still not exactly a guarantee for either of them. They have to actually get out of the war zone alive, but that’s hardly the heaviest of what they’ve carried for each other.

By the time he gets to her ankles he’s shaking as much as she is. It’s still not too difficult to get her sandals off with a combination of fingers and teeth. He kisses her ankles too. They’re definitely owed some appreciation for the long time she’s spent walking and running after Heisuke, after all the guys really. She cares so so much.

When he tosses her sandals they hit the floor like two foot falls, and it takes him a second to remind himself that nobody is running. Not here and not away. They’re ok. He never had reactions to such simple things before this damn war, he does now though. And she helps him through them all. Takes his hands and pulls him up to where she can kiss all over his face and jaw. Promising he’s going to be fine. He knows he is.

Tension goes as quickly as it came. Her hips lifting curiously into his is enough to wipe his mind of everything but _right now._ He’s still determined not to rush, not to push too hard. But she wants it, he wants it. There’s nothing stopping them now. It still takes an encouraging smile and her thumbs digging into his hips to get him into gear.

There are so many things he could tell her, so many times he still needs to thank her for.

In most recent memory, when he took Sannan-san’s sword to fake his death. It was her heartbeat and her faith in him that told him how to win. That doing what he did wasn’t embracing monstrosity like Sannan-san, but that he had been embracing himself and the life he wants to live with her. And that’s only where the list begins.

Still, lists can wait because _he has time._ That still feels incredible. About as amazing as he wants to make her feel.

He runs a hand down her body more purposefully now, knowing what he needs to do to ensure her comfort. And wanting so badly to see her completely lost in enjoyment rather than the pain and concern he’s seen all over her these past weeks.

It’s equal parts care and abandon. Every move he makes is strategically timed to maximize the sounds and the gasps he draws from her. Her legs press into their bedding, and he has to hold her hip with his available hand to keep her from squirming. Chizuru rests her hand over his, curling both of their fingers into her.

This would be enough. Taking her to that far off place where she can tumble down in all sorts of pleasant things she’s never felt before. Every reaction she has to him is stored away for future reference. There’s that word again. _Future._ He must be smiling like an idiot. But he doesn’t care. She’s here and he’s pushing her closer and closer to that point of release. It might be a personal goal of his to find hundreds of what to bring her there.

But she doesn’t want to go alone, “Heisuke.”

“Yeah?” He pauses when her fingers wrap around his wrist and pull him away.

Chizuru answers and she doesn’t. There are no words, but she reaches for him and he is happily folded into her arms. Grateful to be met by her lips. He understands what she passes from her tongue to his. The jolts from every point of contact spell it down his spine. They’ve been taking their time. The length of the shadows of the furniture around him tells him that much.

But it still feels so fast. Shockingly so. Rushing has been such a facet of his life, he’s grown to resent the way it bullies time into running. This isn’t precisely rushing though. And if there is any element of speed, it’s the good kind that lights his veins with a dizzying desire to move forward. With her.

Her legs move to give him room while his hands cup her face. Heisuke kisses her, but starts to laugh halfway through. It’s ok though. Chizuru swallows his laughter and sends it back twice as sweet. Her arms hugging him closer and closer squeezes something in his chest. There’s nothing painful about it, but it almost knocks the wind out of him. Now isn’t the time to run out of breath. He needs words, just a few of them.

“Are you…?” _Ready_ would have been a good word to finish with, but his tongue stumbles around it and it’s reduced to barest elements of speech.

“Please.” It’s more than _yes_. More than permission. An invitation, a request he’s thrilled to be able to fulfill.

Heisuke pushes in until he can’t. The pauses is as much for her as it is for him. His breath is running away from him. Trying to shove it back into his lungs takes a few seconds, and one look at Chizuru’s face is nearly enough to make him loose it again. Her muscles are tight, but her smile isn’t.

Still he wants to ask if she’s ok, if this is ok. Causing her any more pain than is absolutely required is the last thing he wants. There’s something rough in his throat that grinds up his questions. So he holds her hands and tries to drink in every part of this moment to wet his throat. Her skin on his skin with no blood, no wounds, no loss. Their hearts both racing, there’s something nice about lying chest to chest. Heisuke starts to try again but-

Chizuru takes one of her hands from him, and traces her fingers from his eyes down to his lips. Her thumb runs across his lips while he allows syllables to slide back down his throat. “I’m fine, Heisuke.”

He nods. He’s fine too. This is good.

A smile must pull itself along one of the thousands of ribbons tied between them. It runs from her to him and him to her. Reassurance and joy bundled up in what they’ve weaved using bits of each other, bits of their friends and of their pasts. The entirety of their lives spun around and around each other until the braids are too strong to be sliced.

Only then does he start to move. The friction of their skin and muscles grabbing at each other warms him from the outside, while all sorts of impossibilities made reality heat his bones from within until they’re malleable enough to shape themselves to Chizuru. His lung forget how to count and he can’t remember either. Numbers are falling and failing. He doesn’t need them.

Her hands are indecisive. They start at his back, circling and scratching. Then she shifts down to his hips, but his sweat makes it hard to maintain a grip and so it’s back up she goes. To his shoulders, his hands, his face. Anywhere and everywhere. He reaches a hand out and she takes it. They hold so tightly it might be cutting off circulation, but neither seem to care. It’s impossible to care when they’re like this.

She lifts her hips into his, locking bones and bodies together. Always together. He wanted slow. Wanted to be so careful with her. And he’s still being careful, but his mind is full of her and his ears are covered with fuzz that sounds suspiciously like a pulse or two. The disorientation allows him to find only one thing, the rhythm she asks for. The one of her lungs pressing into his, the one of her legs looping around his waist, the one that makes him snap his hips a bit harder a little faster.

They both gasp, and the edge of his vision starts to become curled in white and whatever shade Chizuru is today. Any and all colors. Time has been sort of a bitch to him in recent memory, but lately it’s been a little kinder. It’s kind now in that he can feel the end approaching, but at a speed that’s agreeable for all.

“Chizuru-” He starts, but his stomach jumps towards his chest.

“I’m here.” She doesn’t sound much better. Answering something he didn’t ask with words that are more gasps than voice.

“Yes you are,” Heisuke runs his fingers along the side of her face, “Me too.”

Any talking ends there. Motions lose independence, falling one into the next into the next. It’s sounds and sight and taste and touch all sharing in a kind of havoc that does no harm. Instead it shakes them up, rattles their breath, rocks their smiles and their hearts until everything is tumbling together. The trembling draws them towards each other, towards support.

They’re kissing when they both slip and fall up into climax only a few seconds apart.

For a few minutes he’s not sure he’s human. Not sure he’s a rasetsu either. Just a collection of energy and emotion bumping around inside a skin covered in Chizuru. It’s a wonderful thing. One he shares with her. They’re both too warm, and too loud, and too everything. But’s perfect.

Slowly Heisuke is able to pull himself back into a sense of self. Balance returns, and he rolls off her but keeps her close. He tugs her into his chest. She goes willingly, one hand curling into the space between his neck and shoulder, the other sliding from his jaw into his hair. The sensation of each of the pads of her fingers on his skin is rain to temper the incredible heat. They’re forged into something Hajime-kun’s favorite swordsmiths would be jealous of.

His body knows before his mind does. That’s normal. He tugs some of the kimonos up and over them like blankets. The silk slips on sweat and sweetness, but it hugs them all the same. Heisuke has never been covered with such delicate beauty. It wouldn’t suit him normally, but so long as he’s touching Chizuru it seems to fit. He cradles her against his chest, his thumb rests over her pulse. It’s quick but slowing. Sleep won’t be far off.

“Thank you.” She’s proud of herself, of him, of them. She has every right to be.

 _You’re welcome_ would fill the silence just fine. It’s the appropriate answer, but Heisuke has something else on his mind. Something else on his tongue. He’s known for a while, honestly. There are certain things he over thinks, and chases around his mind until they hold still enough for a proper examination. These feelings, he figured them out a while ago. One of the many things he has deconstructed since everything changed. Chizuru probably already knows. He’s hinted in words, his actions have told.

But he has never said it explicitly. It never seemed like it would be fair to her. He’d struggled between whether it was crueler to tell her and then die or to die never having told her. Because he wouldn’t just die, but burn away into ash. A death that wouldn’t even leave her with anything but gritty flecks of what had been maybe a person, probably a monster. Leaving without being honest stung too. So he didn’t pick either.

Now he’s not planning on dying in imminent future, and he wants to say it for her.

“Chizuru,” She looks up at him, cheek pressing into where his palm rests against her face. He’s not precisely nervous, but his stomach is ticklish. The wait makes her curious, but he needs to breathe.

There’s a weight and also a freedom in this. He hopes she’ll be happy. She will be. Of course she will.

“I love you.”

Her eyes widen, and she curls into herself and into him. Forehead pressing into his neck, and shoulders shaking. Heisuke can’t see her eyes, but he can feel her breath. There aren’t any tears, but she’s gasping and laughing and sputtering against his skin. It’s overwhelming. For both of them. In the best possible way. All the things he can’t promise are immediately outweighed by what that small sentence is able to give her. Heisuke strokes her back until she’s able to get her tongue free.

“You’ve been so tremendously kind to me. I’ve known, but hearing you say it.” The smile and the feeling of her hand seeking out his is worth everything. “I love you too.”

His heart could stop right now and know contentment beyond anything he has ever dreamed. But _I love you too_ sinks into his veins and tomorrow might be even better than right now. There’s everything to live for. Every reason for them to wrap themselves up in each other until they’re safe and together in every sense. Safety and together. Two things he’d been preparing himself to lose, he has right now. He could hold her and hold her and hold her and never grow tired of it. And if the way she’d clung to him at Sendai castle had been any indication the feeling is mutual.

Always mutual. Always.

Saying goodbye to the guys tomorrow will hurt him like nothing ever has. But he’ll take them with him. Sewn in himself and in Chizuru. Bright threads of vibrant lives that they’ll be able to show each, show any future family down the line. God does Heisuke hope those guys survive, but it’s out of his hands. Being powerless has terrified him in the past. But with Chizuru, in whatever home they establish for themselves, he’ll be ok. They’ll share everything. Every burden, every high.

Sleep transforms her breath into a soothing salve. The kind that eases any sting out of tomorrow and allows him the peace to fall into rest with her. Dreams have not always been kind to him, but holding onto her is. This is a beginning and a recovery. It’s everything.

He’s grateful always. Grateful for them, grateful for her.

**Author's Note:**

> Holy shit. I needed to write that. Heichi just gets to me so so much. Lightningwaltz and I had both agreed once that if Heisuke and Chizuru didn't have their first time right after their first kiss, then on the way back from Sendai would be another probable moment for it. 
> 
> And that's an idea I'd actually been thinking about for a long time. Honesty, as far back as when I wrote my last Heichi fic. I knew this would be long and emotional, so I put it off until it demanded to be written. 
> 
> But there you have it! A flood of my Heisuke and Chizuru feels.


End file.
